For Honor, or Love?
by Nicole Presper
Summary: Caroline and Stefan are arranged to be married... but "Should royalty damn us to a loveless life?" Summary inside! AH/AU/Klaroline Warning! Rating may change later for cussing/future smutty scenes. ;)
1. Damned

**Disclaimer: I do not own TVD!**

**A/N:** Hi guys! I'm SUPER excited for you guys to read this new story! It's Klaroline, of course! And a bit of Delena! The rest is still up in the air. :) Oh, and this is an AU/AH! You'll never guess who's the vampire/witch/werewolf/vampire hunter…oh how the possibilities are endless!

**Update**: I thought I'd add in a bit of a summary so you guys have more of an idea of what this is about!

**Summary**: Princess Caroline is promised to King Stefan, as part of a treaty between the kingdoms. But when she meets King Niklaus at a party, everything she thought she knew, and everything she thought she desired, changed. In addition to battling her heart, throughout this journey Caroline will have to make tough decisions to protect her kingdom from rebel forces, including some evil vampires and witches. ;)

Enjoy! xoxo

**For Honor, or Love?**

**Chapter 1: Damned **

**Caroline **

"Presenting Stefan Salvatore, King of Austria, and his Lady Caroline."

_His_. I cringe at the word. They slip off his tongue so naturally, as if I am merely an accessory. But I am so far from _his, _its absurd. I suppose the ring, and the necklace, and even the gown I'm wearing mean I am his. I begged my maiden to let me wear my own things. But I guess giving up your life, your family, your kingdom—it just isn't enough anymore. It seems I'll be playing porcelain doll for this man.

—I know, I know, it's what is _expected_ of me. It's quite the _honor_, really. How can I oppose something I've known about since I was seven? But I suppose it's different when you're at that blissfully ignorant young age.

But I am no longer that little girl. And unfortunately, optimism only seems to agree with adolescence.

At 15, I now know my responsibilities. For my marriage isn't just important to the family, or the kingdom; this marriage will reunite the 5 kingdoms and bring peace everywhere.

I take a deep breath, and hand in hand we walk down the magnificent marble staircase. It's decked out in a lavish, silk carpet— and that's just the beginning. As the ballroom comes into view, we see a crowd of mindless nobles in beautiful suits and gowns. Gorgeous, vibrant melodies ring through the air, and the dance floor swarms with bodies.

Past the dance floor, tables are spread out in the courtyard, where waiters serve expensive wine and entrees to satisfy the expensive taste of the privileged. Princes and knights mingle, boasting to one another of their immense wealth and power, competing for the affections of the ladies.

I can't imagine how I must look, wearing a simple blue gown. _Absolutely stunning_. That's what I'd imagine my husband to say, under different circumstances. But there are no other circumstances. I was born a royal, and I must put my country first. I must consider my choices carefully, and remember my decisions are not to be taken lightly.

And I must forget about _love_.

But others are not so careful, or so caring.

Niklaus Mikaelson III, our gracious host, and King of England, is said to be such a ruler. The rumors of his rule are truly terrifying. He's said to reign with absolute terror and cruelty. He plunders kingdom after kingdom, protecting no one but himself. He takes for himself, and takes everything for his satisfaction.

What he desires, he must have.

Once, he was asked why he would buy silks for his robes before buying food for his people. His answer was said to be, "The king must be put before the kingdom."

But the man I've heard so much about—the grand king I've heard so much about—does not seem so terrifying. He is dangerously beautiful, but too beautiful, I think, to be a monster.

I curtsy as we reach the bottom of the stairs, and look up to meet his striking eyes. And there so blue, the deepest blue I've ever seen. Absolutely gorgeous, and I see their filled with pride, more than anything. But I also see something worth redeeming. And now I feel I must know all his secrets. I must.

"Welcome," he bows to my husband, before taking my hand.

My eyes lock with his as he takes my hand, and I feel as if I'm floating. As if we've left the ground and we're among the stars. As if we are two stars burning brightly and brilliantly in the night sky. Burning for each other.

He leans forward to kiss my hand, but I pull my hand away—I cannot touch him again. I cannot _feel_ his touch again when my husband is standing right next to me. Just his presences awakens me, ignites something in my soul, a part of me unknown to myself.

I feel the heat rising in me, and I know I must hide it away. I must control the flutter in my chest, the tingling sensation in my fingertips, and utter desire to _feel_ him. A queen is not so easily flattered, persuaded. And I am a Queen, well, soon to be, but certainly not a mistress.

A look of confusion flickers across his face, but it quickly returns to his smile, which is rather coy. "A pleasure, my lady." No, a smirk. Not a smile, a smirk. Definitely a smirk.

In a moment I realize my husband is nowhere to be found. Preoccupied with the Duke of Whales, and I am left alone with Niklaus. A true gentleman.

And the thought that he might notice how nice I tried to look for him. Well, Stefan probably only cared that my dress was appropriate and my hair was acceptable for the occasion. The occasion, I might mention, is a celebration for the alliance of the five kingdoms. Sealed in three days by _our_ marriage.

"It seems you've been deserted." Niklaus's smirk grew, "Please, join me?" And he looks so dashing, so charming that I allow him to sweep me away.

"As it seems you have been." I say as he leads me through the ballroom, escorting me to the courtyard.

He does not offer a reply, but merely nods in agreement.

We sit by the edge of the courtyard, on a small bench tucked behind a rose bush. We're so close we're touching. And I think he sees my body quiver as his hand rests on my thigh.

We listen to music, we listen to the strangers dancing and bellowing. And somehow the night blurs together, as we talk about the riches of his kingdom and his mighty reign. It intrigues me, the way he speaks of himself—speaking so highly of himself one moment, then bursting into boastful bouts the next.

Sometimes I can't tell if he's trying to convince me, or himself.

"Well, enough about me." He says after a very long tale of a duel between him and the former King of France. "Are you enjoying yourself?" He looks at me. And I feel as if it's the first time he truly looks at me tonight. His hand reaches up, brushing a fallen curl behind my ear, as fireworks explode inside of me, and he waits attentively.

Flustered, I finally muster, "Yes, everything is so beautiful." I nod, my desperate attempt to keep my secret. My secret that I crave him, and not the man I wear a ring for. So I add, "Yes, my husband and I were honored to be invited." To remind him, and to remind myself.

But this does not faze him, it encourages him. He smiles in return. Not a gentleman's smile, rather a smile that hides its own secret. "The pleasure's all mine, love. I can assure you."

"Oh?"

"There are rumors of your beauty, even here."

I am truly taken aback, and truly flattered. But I cannot feel flattered when so much guilt surrounds this whole night. "Thank you, but not nearly beautiful as your wife."

"There is no need to bring her into this." He shifts as if he's uncomfortable, but his words are firm. As if she is completely irrelevant to our conversation, and it's absurd that I even mention her!

His hand traces the design on my dress, lightly, his fingers pressing into the thin fabric, tickling my thigh. "But surely…You make a lovely…" I struggle with my words as his hand continues to play with my gown.

"Couple?" He laughs, a rather raw and strained laugh. "You mean arrangement? Yes, we make quite a lovely arrangement. We agree on every detail. It's marvelous."

I laugh, quite possibly the only real laugh I've laughed all night. "We're supposed to marry young. We're supposed to be a symbol of peace and allegiance. We're supposed to think of the kingdoms before ourselves. After all, what's the price of love when a kingdom's at stake?"

I can feel the eyes rolling back in my head. But what am I supposed to say to a married and devious man.

He does not talk for a moment. He simply gazes at me, before wrapping one arm around my body, drawing me in, his other hand sliding up to caress my chin. Confidently, he looks deep into my eyes, into my heart, and whispers, just as our lips are about to touch, "But should royalty damn us to a loveless life?"

**A/N:** Tada! That's the end of the first chapter. Honestly I was so excited to get this up that I did not check this as much as I should have, so I apologize for spelling/grammar errors, I'm usual better about that. Oh well, I hope you guys enjoyed, and please let me know what you think! xoxo


	2. Irresistible

**For Honor, or Love?**

**Chapter 2: Irresistible **

If I were to ever express my true desires, I think I would express those exact thoughts. But I am not so selfish, I am not so naïve. "Well, surely you can find some comfort…in your wealth."

"Yes. I suppose my wealth brought you here. And you've certainly caught my affections this evening."

I gasp as he turns to me, and with his free hand, takes mine. The cool night air is replaced by the warmth of his hand, and I am on fire. My skin feels hot, unstable with electricity. And my minds forgets everything I know I should be thinking. I can only listen to my body, as ripples of excitement pulse through me.

Oh?" I can't find it in me to say anymore.

"You think yourself coy, but love, you're more see through than the wine glasses."

I blush, but no, I won't allow him to seduce me so easily. I've heard the stories of his seduction as well. His countless mistresses, used for a night of pleasure, only to be slaughtered—by himself or his wife. "What do you see, then?" I dare, realizing how loaded the question is just as it escapes my lips.

He looks at me, and I know I will regret my challenge. He likes a challenge, and he always wins.

He whispers, his lips so closer to my ear I can feel his breath, "I see the way my voice makes you melt, the way you rise and fall with it, following its tone." He pauses, sliding his hand further up my thigh, teasing at the thin fabric between his fingers and my bare skin, "I feel the way your skin comes alive, your blood rushes through you when we touch. And I hear the way your pulse speeds up; your heart beats just a little bit faster than normal when were together."

And I gasp. I gasp because it's all I can do to preoccupy my lips. My hands grasp his and I gasp because he's right. He's absolutely right, and his words are so enticing, so convincing. I hold his hand tightly, preventing him from moving them anywhere else, but keeping them in mine, because I can't bear the thought of letting go. We sit there for a moment, our eyes locked, and his lips so close to mine I can feel his breath on my skin.

And I have to pull away.

I have to distance myself from him.

But I already feel so far away from him, and if I were to move, the moment would be ruined, gone forever.

"But I guess I could be wrong." He shrugs, keeping his hand in mine, but pulling face away so it's no longer his warm, cinnamon breath I smell, but the smell of wine and roses and leather.

All wonderful scents, but none as comforting as his.

And I know this is it. I can tell him he's right. He's absolutely right and all I want to do is love him, and be loved by him. But I know it's foolish. Love is foolish. And I know I should tell he's wrong. I should get up and walk away.

But I cannot bring myself to do either of those things, so instead, I pry. I dare, "Is it true? The stories of your heartless plunder? All the massacres? The destruction of all those kingdoms, and all those people? Because all I see before me is a man trying to prove himself to the world. And thinks ruling by fear will give him that. It will give him love, even."

He stares at our hands, his fingers playing gently with mine. And I think he might reveal something, reveal a part of himself to me. But he thinks better of it, and replies, "The entitled are only the entitled so long as they are mightier than the masses. The masses cannot fight if they are too weak to do so."

"So it's true?" A sinking feeling begins in my stomach, replacing the butterflies inside.

"I don't think it matters, to you."

"Oh?" I ask in surprise, as he runs a finger over my wedding ring, and frowns slightly.

"No." He murmurs. And then he looks at me strangely, and slowly slips my engagement ring off my finger.

A small gasp arises from my mouth as he does so, and my emotions run free. Because I wrong as I know this is, I've never felt so free. And I've never felt so alive. "Niklaus?" I finally mumble.

"I don't like to think of you with someone else." He whispers softly, as his eyes travel up to meet mine. "I'd like to think you're mine, just for the night, love."

I stir slightly, shift uncomfortably. But I'm surprised it's not fear that causes my hesitation. It's the guilt, the pure and retched guilt I feel from my desire. "But are you capable of love?" I murmur. "A man who removes a woman's ring. It's very bold—and it's very cruel."

"If it meant anything to you, we would not be sitting here right now." He whispers. "Love, is a luxury even I cannot afford." And for once his eyes aren't careful. They're the deepest, deepest blue, but I can see the pain and agony so clearly in them. "Darling, I haven't the slightest clue what love is."

I can hear the pity in his voice. And I can't tell if it's because he doesn't feel the sparks, or because he does.

"Then what is this?" I whisper. I've never been one to look for love. I've always understood my place, my duty. I never believed the entitled deserved love. Much more to worry about—ruling a kingdom and such. But from the moment I laid eyes on him. I wanted him. I wanted love more than anything I've ever desired. Love from him.

His hands reach up, caressing my cheeks lightly. And I'm almost too far gone.

His beautiful eyes stare into mine, and I feel as if I could sit with him forever, in complete silence, and grasp true happiness. But I know I'm holding on to something that's already slipping away.

"This, love, is simply the closest we get. Moments of happiness, glimpses of pleasure. But I'm afraid it must end." He pulls his hands back slightly, so his fingers only linger, barely touching my skin. "I'm afraid I've been very caught up in our moment tonight. I'm truly sorry, love."

"Why does it have to end?" I say before I can help myself. I grab is wrists, willing him to stay. And I realize I must sound so desperate—but I'm too far gone.

"Well it just wouldn't be proper." He seems to withdrawal quickly back into his cover, his secrets once again closed off to the world. And I won't have any of it. Any of his bullshit.

"Screw proper. What's stopping you?" I tempt, bringing my hands to his neck, my lips so so so close to his. I rest my forehead on his, and I hear his breaths quicken. "What was stopping you when you took my ring?"

He whispers softly, so softly, "I shouldn't." So softly it tickles. So softly I'd laugh, if this moment didn't feel like the epiphany of my existence. But he must feel something too, because he lets kiss him.

Our lips connecting, pressing together gently, and I am exploding. Exploding in light, in love, in everything pure and wonderful.

And I see it; I see something in his eyes. I see emotion, I see vulnerability as I pull away. And it's so beautiful, I almost tell him to take me right there.

But he stops me. He shakes his head, a look of frustration and restraint on his face. He takes my hands from his face, takes them in his hands. "Love, you should not have done that."

"Because it's not proper?" I tease, I mock.

He shifts, and says, "It's been an absolute pleasure to have your company tonight."

And I shake my head in frustration, pulling his lips back to mine. And this time I don't let go. I don't let him pull away, I keep our lips pressed together. I wrap my hands through his hear, begging him to stay.

Because this is _everything_.

Niklaus's hands pull my body closer, having moved to my waist. And as if something is taking over inside of him. He kisses me harder, devouring me. It's as if the monster I've heard so many stories about it truly in there, and it's begging to come out and play.

And suddenly his hands tense, and remove themselves from me, his lips parting from mine, and he's rising, turning away quickly. I can see his neck vein pulsing, and his back muscles tightening through his jacket. Something is very wrong.

His whole body becomes rigid, aggravated. As if he cannot part from me fast enough.

But all I can think is how wrong everything feels without him. Without his touch.

It's the first time his hand has left me all night, the first time is touch is missing from my skin. It jolts me awake, and I feel as if I could lose him forever. I feel our moment fleeting, running away, full-speed. And I'm terrified because I need this moment to last.

But then he whispers something absolutely wonderful.

He turns around, straightening his jacket and clearing his throat. An animalistic vibe pulsing from his body, a hunger expressed in his eyes I've never seen before. Almost frightening, but incredibly enticing. But it doesn't matter, because any thought of hesitation flees. He offers his hand, as he says the two words that change _everything_.

"Screw proper."

I take his hand desperately, too desperately I think.

His grasp reassures me. His hand holds mine tightly, so tightly I can feel each knuckle. It's not the knuckles that sway me though; it's the tiny gold band on his ring finger. The tiny delicate band that glares at me so brightly I cringe.

It reminds me, he is not mine. I am his. But he is not _mine_.

But before he can lead me away, before I allow him to, our moment is stolen from us.


	3. Normal

**Disclaimer: I do not own TVD!**

**For Honor, or Love?**

**Chapter 3: Normal**

"May I steal away my bride to be for a dance?" Stefan interrupts us, offering his hand.

I pull my hand away in a hurry, detaching myself at once "Of course, we— we're just—"I trip over my words, unable to form a coherent sentence.

I'm both disappointed and relieved. As I know exactly what I was willing to do with Niklaus and I can't help but yearn for it-for something more than an arrangement. But I am glad that I kept my vows, kept myself pure for Stefan. For he has always been nothing but noble and just to me. And I owe him nothing less.

"I was just congratulating your fiancé. And telling her not to get too comfortable," Niklaus chuckles, "We still have much to discuss tomorrow, once the King of Germany arrives."

"Of course." Stefan nods, taking no notice of my sudden discomfort. "Once he arrives, we will be able to finalize the treaty and restore peace."

"Yes," I regain my composure, "There were a couple of things we wanted to discuss with you."

"Well," Stefan utters quickly, as if I've insulted the great king, "I'm sure no one would dare to oppose you. After all it is you, King Niklaus, who saved us all from war."

Niklaus smirks, taking my hand, "Yes, well, whoever dares will never live to speak of it." And with that, he kisses my hand, and leaves me to my fiancé, giving me a quick wink before disappearing into the crowd.

Stefan frowns, ready to reprimand me, "That was not your place to say, Caroline, you—

"I'm sorry, dear. Just tense." I take Stefan's hand and pull him into the ballroom before he can finish.

Stefan nods, dropping the subject, and places his hands on my waist, as we begin to dance, "In just a few days, all of this fuss will be over. We'll get married and then we can go back to being normal."

As we dance, I look at everyone surrounding us-all the other happy couples. I wonder if they're truly happy, or if their façade is as good as ours.

If you looked at us from across the room, you'd think _what a beautiful young couple. If only it were true. If only I felt something for him. Anything at all._ Even hatred would be better than the numbness I feel around him.

"Right," I clear my throat and will myself not to snort at his statement. As if any of this is normal. "Getting married before I turn sixteen is not normal. None of this, will ever be normal, Stefan. No matter how many times you say it will be."

"Darling, don't pout. It's not a good look on you. Besides, the marriage is just a formality. You won't have to worry yourself with any of the tough decisions. You'll be dressed in the finest clothes and served the most divine food."

"You're right." I stop dancing abruptly, causing him to stagger. "Nothing is going to change. I'll still be told what I'm supposed to do just like a child."

"Caroline," Stefan regains his composure in time to take me back in his arms, "I know this may not be your fairytale ending, but I think we can both respect what one another wants. Don't you?"

"Of course, dear." As if he's ever bothered to ask _what_ I want. "And what exactly do you mean?"

"Just that as long as we keep a united front, I don't see why we can't enjoy the pleasure of others."

"Right," I nod slowly, "So as long as we keep up the charade, we go around fucking whoever we want?"

"Oh don't be so dramatic, dear," He whispers, almost frantic, "Keep your voice down. It's a perfectly normal proposal."

There's that word again-_normal_.

I stagger away, reeling back from his touch, "I saved myself for you."

At that he merely chuckles, "Oh Caroline, you didn't really expect that I saved myself for you. Why, my dear, I'm afraid you think to highly of me."

"Or maybe not just low enough."

"Excuse me, duties." Stefan whispers, pecking my cheek. "We can talk about this later, once you've calmed down."

Once I've _calmed_ down! What a brute.

It does not really matter, I suppose. I never imagined myself stuck in marriage in which I had to find others to indulge with. I always thought I could grow to love my husband, like my parents grew to love each other. But having felt love for someone once before, I know I will never have that feeling for Stefan. Nor will he for me.

I wander back to the courtyard, wondering if I might find Niklaus again. His words keep echoing in my head, "_Should royalty damn us to a loveless life?"_

"Carol!" I turn to see my older cousin, Olivia, rushing towards me. "Finally, someone who can hold a conversation about more than just their favorite type of wine. Someone who understands the silliness of parties like these. Well, at least there's good wine," she says, grabbing a glass of champagne off a tray. "I prefer it over Baileys." She mimics.

"Right." I laugh, and decide not to spoil her fun by telling her Baileys is not in fact wine at all. "Liv," I smile, grabbing a glass to drink with her. "You look gorgeous!" I squeal, for a moment feeling like myself. I allow myself to remember how much fun I used to have at parties and gatherings.

"Oh that's right." She rolls her eyes, finishing off her glass. "You love these ridiculously lavish and grossly rich parties."

I laugh, unable to hold it back. "You have to admit, the fancy dresses, the charming princes, even the mother's that are eager to please, it's all sort of grand. If it weren't for all the proper manners and rules it would be just like when we were little."

"Yes, except when we were little we could get anything we wanted with a giggle. We were charming little things." Liv sighs dramatically, "If only we were still so young."

"Well, since I've been engaged I've started to see the 'silliness' in all of it." I giggle, "But we could still try to have some fun, unless you have to get back to your fiancée—where is he, anyway? And why haven't I met him?"

"Not important," Liv says with a wave of her hand. "We're actually getting along quite well. But enough about boys. Now, let me grab another glass of champagne and then, well, what did you have in mind? If I remember correctly you were the queen of fun."

I smile, remembering my summers here as a kid. Faint images return to my mind, when I used to play with their maid's daughter—a girl named Elena, I remember. We'd dash into the fields, trying to catch butterflies and dragonflies. We didn't think about things like boys back then. And when we got into trouble, we could get off with a cute and innocent smile.

"Come on," I say, grabbing her hand. "Let's go."

As we stumble down the halls, half-drunk, I'll admit, we pass painting of the past royals, but oddly none of Niklaus.

"Is it true you were speaking with the elusive King Niklaus tonight?" Liv nudges me.

"Oh he's not so elusive."

"Right, then why have the castle gates been closed for over 100 years?"

"That's not true, we've been here before."  
>"Yes, but we're royalty. And have you ever seen the old king? Do you remember what he looked like?"<p>

I pause for a moment, but don't take Liv's questions seriously. She's always looking for excitement. "No, I don't. But I don't see why that's of any importance to us. Now, come on."

I push through the heavy, brass doors into a magnificent, oval shaped room with high ceilings and stained glass windows. Even at night, thousands of colors shine through the window panes, illuminating the room in vibrant hues of golds and fushias.

"Did you seriously take me to the library?" Liv rolls her eyes, dramatically sighing as we enter the room.

"Oh, give it a chance!" I laugh, pulling a book from one of the dusty shelves. Anna Karenina. Seems oddly relevant, but I've heard things don't end well for her.

"Really, what is so fun about this?" Liv coughs, "All the interesting books were expelled years ago. You know, the spell books that witches used to use. If we could find one of those, and somehow perform a spell—

"Liv! Don't be ridiculous! Witches don't exist anymore. And they were all evil sorceresses anyway! Banished or run out for good reason!"

"You're just repeating what your mother used to say."

"Maybe I am. But do you want to have some fun or not?"

"Fine." She turns to look at me, putting her hands on her hips, obviously unimpressed. "Where is this 'fun'?"

I grin, dashing to the very last book case, and pull an old book from the middle shelve.

"The bible? Seriously?"

"Shh!" I laugh, putting my arm out and gently pushing Liv aside as the bookcase begins to turn, just like in a story. "Excited now?" I gloat.

Stubbornly, Liv asks, "And where exactly do you think you're taking me?"

"Where the most interesting people are of course—to the dungeon!"

**A/N:** Hi guys! I hope you enjoyed this one, as always. Anyway, I've kinda been setting the stage, but the next chapter is gonna get reaaal interesting. ;) xoxo


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